


fluorescent adolescent

by violetcity



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dialogue Heavy, No Plot/Plotless, Platonic Relationships, Texting, aka im projecting, also the ships are NOT a big part of this fic. like at all, this is essentially skz being dumb in their tiny southern hometown, this isn't a chat fic though i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-02-29 19:51:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18785047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetcity/pseuds/violetcity
Summary: as jisung says: this town fucking sucksthey find ways to entertain themselves regardless





	fluorescent adolescent

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is very much me projecting life in my hometown onto skz. it is NOT supposed to be good writing. just bullshit. 
> 
> im from the south and i tried not to make the dialogue sound southern but if it does,,, sorry. 
> 
> grace if u read this, this fic was inspired entirely by our shit 
> 
> one more thing since im not sure if its clear enough in the fic: 00 line have just finished their freshman year of college. changbin and minho just finished their sophomore year. chan and woojin have just finished their junior year. jeongin has just finished his senior year of high school.

“You know what?” Jisung throws his wallet onto the sticky Dunkin’ Donuts table and haphazardly puts his obnoxiously large iced coffee down beside it. There’s an obvious lack of interest from the other three boys at the table but Jisung continues talking anyway. “This town fucking sucks.”

Hyunjin’s eyes flick up from his phone and he snorts. “Just figuring this out? How long have you lived here?”

“Shut up,” Jisung says. He’s chewing on the straw of his drink so it comes out somewhat distorted. “I mean like, there was so much shit to do at college and now we’re back in the middle of buttfuck nowhere with absolutely nothing.”

“We’re doing something right now,” Seungmin says. Though, sitting at the same table they’ve sat at over a hundred times in the past four years while they don’t talk and scroll through their phones doesn’t really count as _something._ Seungmin knows this. Jisung knows that Seungmin knows this so he glares.

“You know what I mean!” Jisung cries a little too loudly. The employee behind the register sends them a look and the conversation is dropped.

They sit in silence for a few more minutes, the only sound being occasional notifications from their phones and the shift of ice in their cups. Jisung kind of feels like he’s going to explode.

“If we leave now we can pick Jeongin up from school and go bother Chan at Target.” Felix flips his phone around to show them the 2:15 p.m. written across his lockscreen. It’s hard to tell whether or not he’d been listening to their earlier conversation but no one comments on it. In fact, there isn’t much verbal agreement at all. They just pick up their cups, file out the door into the god awful heat, and get into Seungmin’s shitty Honda Civic.

 

 

Woojin makes the mistake of coming home for the summer.

He should be in the city looking for an internship or something to get a head-start before his senior year, but instead, he’s living in his parent’s house again and working at the Dunham’s Sporting Goods in the mall. A knockoff version of Dick’s Sporting Goods really. It doesn’t help that all the stores in the mall are quickly going out of business and every time Woojin walks into work he’s expecting to get told, “Start looking for another job. We’re closing in a couple of weeks.” Until then though, he’s stuck restocking the baseball section.

“Are you going to Changbin’s tonight?” Minho asks. Some of the words are cut off by the sound of the tennis ball he’s bouncing against the floor. Woojin doesn’t care enough to ask where he got it from. He doesn’t even know why Minho is here.

“I don’t know. Are you two going to make out on the couch while the rest of us play video games again?”

“We were drunk,” Minho says matter-of-factly. As if Woojin actually cares that it happened. He doesn’t, he just likes bothering Minho about it. “But no,  his parents are gonna be home tonight.”

Woojin groans. No one really likes Changbin’s parents but his house is the only one with space enough for their friend group to hang out so everyone sucks it up. Sometimes they sneak out to the park in Changbin’s neighborhood if they want to do something other than just lounge around upstairs.

“Come on, dude. What else are you gonna do?”

And it’s not like he can argue with that. “I’ll go if you get out of here and let me do my job.”

“Bye!” Minho says, tossing the tennis ball into the bucket of baseballs by Woojin’s feet. Woojin doesn’t have it in him to complain.

 

 

When Jeongin climbs into the backseat of Seungmin’s car—pushing Hyunjin to the middle seat—he’s backpack-less. “I am officially done with high school,” He announces.

“Dude!” Felix whips around in the passenger seat to offer him a high five. There’s a cheer from Jisung but Jeongin can’t see him on the other side of Hyunjin.

Jeongin high fives Felix but he isn’t looking, focused on the cup holders on the middle console instead. “Y’all didn’t bring me anything from Dunkin’?”

“I’ll buy you something at the Starbucks in Target,” Seungmin promises, catching Jeongin’s eyes in the rearview mirror. Jeongin smiles.

“Are you his dad?” Jisung asks.

 

 

 **From: Hyunjin  
** >r u still with woojin?  
>we r going to target 

**From: Minho  
** >just left  
>does chan work today?  
>please say yes 

**From: Hyunjin  
** >ye lol  
>why else would we go to target? 

 

 

A bead of sweat trails down the side of Changbin’s face and he wipes it away with the neck of his tank top. The sun has moved into a position that renders the umbrella attached to his chair completely useless. Below him, toddlers and their nannies wade through the cool water of the pool and Changbin is more than a little envious.

The stupid lifeguard fanny pack the country club gave him buzzes and Changbin takes his eyes off the pool for a moment to fish his phone out. There’s a singular notification: a snapchat from Felix.

It’s a candid shot of Chan in his dumb red polo shirt behind one of the registers at Target. The angle suggests that Felix is hiding in the dollar section near the front of the store. The caption reads “chan from target :p.”

Changbin shouldn’t laugh at it—seeing as how Felix makes the same joke every time Chan works—but he does anyway. He snaps a picture of the pool and types out a quick “funny” onto the caption before sending it.

From across the pool, Jeongyeon shouts, “Put your phone away!” Changbin quickly slides it back into the ugly bag on his waist.

 

 

Chan finds them in the candle aisle.

It’s not really surprising that Minho, Jisung, and Felix are crowded together at one end of the aisle. For as long as Chan has worked here, his friends have been intent on bothering him at every possible moment. Personally, he thinks Changbin would be more fun to fuck with at work considering he works at a country club. But what does he know.

For the brief moment when the three have yet to notice his presence, Chan considers turning on his heels and going to beg Sana to switch tasks with him in the back. And then, that thought is crushed when Minho turns to him, a bright pink candle held up below his nose. Minho holds eye contact as he sniffs the candle.

“What are you doing?” Chan sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Minho doesn’t answer. He turns back to Felix and says, “This candle smells like shit.”

“Like literal shit? Or just bad?” Jisung asks. Minho shoves the candle at his face and Jisung sniffs it. He promptly screws his face up. “No, yeah. Literal shit.”

“We’re trying to figure out which candle smells the best. So far they all suck.” Felix finally explains.

Chan is about to ask _why the fuck they’re doing that_ when Felix furrows his eyebrows and looks up and down the aisle. “Where did the others go?”

“There’s more of you?!”

 

 

Woojin picks Changbin up from work at three. It’s not a usual thing, but Changbin’s car is in the shop and Woojin is a good friend. Sometimes.

 **From: Woojin  
** >i’m here 

**From: Changbin  
** >thank GOD 

Changbin walks out of the pool locker room looking a little like he wants to murder Woojin. Or anyone, really. Woojin doesn’t say anything as Changbin slams the passenger side door a little too hard. Changbin presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, pushing damp bangs against his eyelids, and takes in a deep breath.

“I fucking hate middle schoolers,” He says.

Woojin puts his car in reverse and backs out of the park, assuming Changbin is going to continue without any prompting. When he pulls out onto the main road and Changbin still hasn’t said anything, Woojin glances over to find Changbin furiously typing something on his phone. He waits for the iPhone lock sound before cautiously asking, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“They pretended to drown, Woojin! Just to make Jeongyeon and I jump into the water so they could laugh at us. I hate rich kids!” Changbin says, hysterically. He kind of sounds like he’s going to cry.

Woojin decides not to say that technically, in this town, Changbin is considered a rich kid too. “Damn.”

And like that, they fall into silence as Woojin drives and Changbin goes back to typing on his phone. That is until halfway to Changbin’s house when he gets bored with his phone and starts flicking his finger through the cupholder in between their seats.

“Why are there so many fucking empty Juul pods in here?”

“They’re Jisung’s.”

“Since when do you hang out with Jisung this often? Did you finally grow up and kiss him?”

“None of your fucking business.”

 

 **From: Changbin  
** >are you and woojin dating

 **From: Jisung  
**>none of your fucking business 

 **From: Changbin    
** >interesting 

 

  
  
The original Target group reconvenes in the dollar section at the front while they wait for Chan to get off work. When Seungmin, Hyunjin, and Jeongin show up, Minho is quick to steal a sip of Jeongin’s half empty frappuccino.

“Where did y’all go?” Felix asks. He flicks a clearance item slinky at Hyunjin’s chest.

Jeongin holds up the bag in his left hand. There’s a dark vague shape that barely shows through the white plastic.

“He wanted a t-shirt,” Seungmin explains.

“ _Are you his_ _dad?”_ Jisung asks. Again.

“It’s part of his graduation gift.” Hyunjin throws the slinky at Jisung. “Bet you haven’t gotten him anything yet.”

“You guys really don’t have to get me anything,” Jeongin says quickly.

“I’m buying you something,” Jisung says, throwing an arm around Jeongin’s shoulders. “I have to outdo Seungmin now.” Jeongin elbows him in the ribs.

 

 

“Can we please go to the park?” Minho’s voice cuts through the silence, monotone and almost completely devoid of life. As if he would rather be anywhere else than where he’s currently laid out in the middle of the floor. Changbin, whose head rests in the dip of Minho’s stomach, sits up and surveys the room.

They’re in the den upstairs at Changbin’s house. Minho and Changbin are on the floor. Jeongin, Felix, and Seungmin are  playing Super Smash Bros. on the TV but with no sound because the speakers are broken. The rest are curled up in various spots on the other two couches watching. They all look just as bored as Minho sounds.

Changbin rolls over on the floor, reaching up to turn off the console and TV. There is surprisingly little objection. After ten minutes of bickering and trying to locate phones and shoes, they file out of Changbin’s front door while Changbin yells “Going to the park!” over his shoulder.

 

There’s a specific kind of fear that large groups of young adult boys instills in actual adults. As exemplified by the jogger they meet on their way to the park who quickly crosses the street when he sees their group. Minho waves to him as they pass.

 

“What if the sun never set?” Jisung asks. He’s laying upside down at the bottom of one of the kid slides, looking almost directly at the slowly setting sun.

Woojin considers telling him to stop because he might fuck up his eyes, but then again, Jisung with glasses would probably be cute so he keeps his mouth shut.

“Why don’t you move to Alaska and find out,” Hyunjin replies.

“No like, here.” Jisung throws his arms out wide in what Hyunjin assumes to be an indication of their town. “What if the sun just rose one day and never set?”

“Well, then I assume we would probably burn to death.”

“Cool.”

 

 

[Jeongin graduates that Saturday.

It’s hot and sticky outside and the eight others cram side by side into one row of bleachers in the football stadium. When Jeongin’s name is called, they scream like their lives depend on it. The smile on Jeongin’s face as he crosses the stage is worth almost getting kicked out.

Jisung buys Jeongin and him matching rings. According to Jeongin, Jisung beats Seungmin by a longshot.]

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading this very dumb fic. kudos and comments are always appreciated! 
> 
> you can find me on twt [here!](https://twitter.com/vioietcity)


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